


Not So Innocent

by sunshinetina



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinetina/pseuds/sunshinetina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'They all think you are innocent,' Cristiano whispers and his lips are a bit too close to Lionel's, 'Damn it, I thought you were innocent.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Innocent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [postmodernsleaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/postmodernsleaze/gifts).



> This is a gift to one of my best-est friends (she shares a b-day with Cristiano today) and she read it and made me post it here, so... *hides*

_Breathe in, breathe out, act natural._

 

It sounds easy but God knows it's the hardest thing to do right now. And when saying _the_ _hardest_ …

 

Cristiano slightly squeezes Lionel's thigh and the latter man lets out a shaky breath. _Just, please, don't move your hand, please_. And for once, Cristiano doesn't tease him any further, although Lionel catches with the corner of his eyes the mischievous spark in those brown eyes.

 

'Estás bien?' Antonela leans a bit forward, her thoroughly combed hair touching Lionel's right shoulder and he just gulps quietly and nods way too ecstatically. She throws him a suspicious look, then just shrugs and focuses back on her phone.

 

And then Lionel does _the_ mistake. He looks at Cristiano. It's an involuntary glimpse, just a turn of his head, but, God, how he wishes he didn't.

 

Because Cristiano is looking straight at him with that typical smirk of his that would have every single girl on her knees right in front of him at that very moment. Lionel's breath hitches at that thought and his mouth feels suddenly too dry to speak.

 

'Esta noche estoy solo,' the Portuguese accent is way too heavy and in any other circumstance Lionel would crinkle his nose in disapproval, but not now. Not when Lionel's eyes linger on Cristiano's perfectly styled hair and the eyebrows (since when Lionel started admiring people's eyebrows?) and the tanned skin, and the damn suit tailored just for that fucking body, 'Leo?'

 

Lionel shakes his head slightly and looks up, meeting Cristiano's eyes again. It's safe to say he didn't really pay attention to Cristiano's words, but just followed his mouth opening and closing again and again. _That_ smirk.

 

'Where are you?' Cristiano's voice is low and husky and Lionel subconsciously throws a quick glance at Antonela, as if being suddenly embarrassed.

 

'Sorry, you were saying?'

 

'Are you alright?'

 

'Yeah, just-… I am never used to those ceremonies, you know,' Lionel shrugs as nonchalantly as possible. Cristiano's hand is still on his thigh and Lionel thinks it would burn his skin any time now.

 

'I can see that. You never learn your lesson when it comes to suits, huh?' Cristiano chuckles and it takes all Lionel's strength to frown, while looking at the other man.

 

'You have something against my suit?'

 

'You bet I do,' Cristiano nods vigorously and Lionel tries to suppress a smile as his thoughts race through his mind at the speed of light.

 

'Maybe I should take it off, hm?'

 

Cristiano's hand unexpectedly squeezes Lionel's thigh a bit too hard and Lionel purses his lips, trying to stop a moan escaping his lips. Cristiano looks at him and – yeah, Lionel has always felt small, but at that very moment he thinks he is just a turning to ash under Cristiano's heavy gaze.

 

'You should not be saying such things,' Cristiano whispers and Lionel just gives up, half-closing his eyes and letting out a quiet moan. And then, _fuck_ , Cristiano does it. He moves his palm higher on Lionel's thigh and Lionel can almost feel Cristiano's pinky finger slightly touching the rising bulge in his trousers, 'Not when we are in public. Not when you are sitting right next to me. _Fuck_ , since when are you using this perfume?'

 

'You know, we are not exactly the definition of _friends_ ,' Lionel dares to look once again at Cristiano, 'How do you know what kind of perfume I usually use?'

 

'It's-…' and for the first time that night, it's Cristiano's turn to be slightly confused, 'It's not right.'

 

'Huh?'

 

'It does things to me.'

 

'The perfume?'

 

'The perfume _on you_.'

 

'Leo, ven conmigo, por favor,' Antonela leans at him once again and Cristiano immediately moves his hand away as Lionel stands up and shifts uneasily, his pants being a bit too tight and uncomfortable. Cristiano catches the cameras around them and curses mentally, realising he would probably see the pics of his hand on Lionel's thigh first thing tomorrow morning.

 

But how could he help himself? No, actually, he doesn't even know how he could do such a thing. Maybe it was the proximity, maybe it was the fact that he was alone now, maybe it was the fucking perfume, indeed. Cristiano's eyes fixate Lionel walking out of the hall with Antonela vividly talking to him. _Fuck, it's not just the perfume, damn it._

'Pai!' Cristiano's attention turns around in just a second, as soon as he hears his son calling out for him, and he stands up, letting himself being dragged outside of the hall. His mother greets him witha kiss on the cheek, as Cristiano sits down on the leather couch and stretches his legs.

 

'Are you nervous?' his mother asks and he just nods as soon as he sees a fuss at the other end of the hallway. His son anxiously squeezes his hand and looks straight at him. Cristiano smiles and ruffles his hair, leaning down.

 

'Come on, go. He's not scary at all.'

 

Cristiano hears his son gulp loudly and sees him biting his lips, looking at his grandmother, then at him, then back.

 

'Go on, greet him,' his grandmother nods as well and Cristianinho quickly runs as Lionel comes closer, talking to the people around him. Shuts up the moment his eyes focus on the tiny figure in front of him, nervously biting its nails.

 

'Hola…'

 

Cristianinho looks back at his father, who just laughs. Louder than necessary, to which his mother raises a confused eyebrow.

 

'He can't stop talking about you. Asks me to watch some videos of you and me, of you playing…' Cristianinho turns red at his father's words and his father turns red the moment Lionel's fingers entangle with his son's curls. The boy runs back at his father and hides his face in his neck.

 

'Come ooon, don't be shy nowww…' Cristiano's husky voice is probably not intended for his son and when he lifts his dark brown eyes at him, Lionel realises this was directed at him. His turn to blush and bite his lips. Cristiano's eyes involuntarily follow Lionel's tongue poking through his swollen lips.

 

'Ah, here you are!' Antonela grabs Lionel by the arm and literally drags him away with a frown, 'You can stop with the theatrics, you know.'

 

'Huh?'

 

'They all got it. You are not enemies, fine. But you can stop pretending you are the best of friends,' Antonela shakes her head as soon as they find their way back to the hall and take their seats.

 

'I am not pretending anything. We are not friends.'

 

'Of course you are not. Stop forcing yourself into being so polite.'

 

'I am not _forcing_ myself,' Lionel frowns, 'God, what's with you, Anto? We are just having fun.'

 

'Fun?'

 

'Yeah.'

 

'Since when are you having fun with Cristiano Ronaldo?' she shakes her head. Lionel clicks his tongue and leans back, half-closing his eyes while listening to her murmur something in the background. Just a minute later, he feels someone shuffle next to him and the scent hits his nostrils. He bites his lips, his mind being desperate for Cristiano's hand to find its way on his thigh once again. But, at the same time, Lionel knows perfectly well this may be not the best idea right now.

 

Surprisingly, they both manage to keep their posture straight, without any stolen glances between each other and without any touches or words spoken. The only moment when Cristiano briefly looks at Lionel is when standing up to receive his Ballon d'Or. And right then, Lionel realises what this look means.

 

'Congratulations…' Lionel stretches his hand at Cristiano and the taller man slowly licks his lips and smirks, 'Just one more, si?'

 

'Two,' Cristiano shakes Lionel's hand, 'Don't you think I'll let you win this.'

 

Lionel smirks back and shivers when Cristiano's thumb caresses the back of his hand.

 

'May I ask you something?' Lionel looks around. Not that he didn't check beforehand, but he wants to be sure there aren't any people too close to them. Cristiano nods, 'Where's Irina?'

 

Cristiano chuckles and steps closer. Here we go again – Lionel feels like losing himself in front of Cristiano, 'Does it bother you she is not here?'

 

'Frankly, yes.'

 

'Really?' Cristiano cocks an eyebrow, 'How so?'

 

'Last year you kept your hands on _her_ thighs, for starters…' they both smile at each other and Cristiano shakes his head.

 

'They all think you are innocent,' Cristiano whispers and his lips are a bit too close to Lionel's, 'Damn it, _I_ thought you were innocent.'

 

'And now you don't think so?'

 

'I felt your reaction under my hand,' Cristiano smirks and leans closer, 'I hate that we are in public.'

 

'And if we were not?' Lionel's cheeks are flushed in light pink and Cristiano's eyes get even more dimmed. He fights the urge to pull Lionel closer to himself and his hand just lingers in the air around his waist, 'Would you do something if were in private?'

 

' _Fuck_ …' Cristiano lets his head fall and Lionel chuckles in his ear.

 

'Is that so? _Will_ you?' Lionel's tongue slightly touches Cristiano's earlobe and Cristiano suddenly feels his legs shaking. He looks at Lionel through his eyelashes. The bastard even dares smirking at him, 'And I'll _let_ you.'

 

Cristiano groans as soon as Lionel stands up on his toes and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. He disappears just as quickly as he has arrived and, while hugging the next person, Cristiano sees Lionel and Antonela leaving. His phone buzzes some seconds later and he apologises, stepping aside.

 

_I had to leave, sorry. See you in Spain? L_

Cristiano smirks and types fast, _You realise that's the first message I receive from you?_

Lionel sits in the car and quickly kisses Antonela before reading the received message and typing his, _I am not a message person. I prefer to talk._

_I see. Till Spain, then._

 

Cristiano smirk widens and he types again. Lionel blinks, adjusting his eyes to the light from his phone display, trying to read the next message, _And you won't talk. You'll scream. ;)_


End file.
